


Incipient

by hollybennett123



Series: Emergent [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Asgard, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, Kissing, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Thor (2011), Sexual Experimentation, Sexual Fantasy, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 07:20:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13735926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollybennett123/pseuds/hollybennett123
Summary: “You should probably know,” Loki says with a nonchalant innocence that only ever precedes him saying something designed to leave Thor in ruins, “that recently I’ve been thinking that I very badly want you inside me.”Thor would probably feel less mightily stunned had Loki simply pushed him off the bed and left him there.





	Incipient

**Author's Note:**

> I finally tried some Thor POV! Which was super fun, but I seem to fit more naturally into the role of Loki when I write and I have no idea what that says about me (nothing good, I’m sure).
> 
> I’ll hopefully write another post-Ragnarok fic at some point, but for now I’m having far too much fun looking back at the early days of their relationship in Asgard and writing completely self-indulgent porn about it. This fic is like 75% dirty talk and I have no regrets. I imagine them to be the Asgardian equivalent of late teens here, but it’s not actually specified.
> 
> Now also available in [podfic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14056965) format!

There is something about being in Loki’s bedchambers that always leaves Thor feeling slightly off-balance. It isn’t unpleasant -- quite the opposite -- but it leaves him somewhat lightheaded and not quite himself, like the tipsy, head-rush feeling that blooms when a glass of liquor is swallowed too swiftly.

Not, of course, that Loki doesn’t inspire similar feelings when he comes silently to Thor’s bed at some late hour wearing a smirk like a promise, or crowds Thor up against the wall in a hidden corner of the castle to steal a kiss, but Loki’s room is so fundamentally _Loki’s_ that it is difficult not to feel utterly and inescapably surrounded by him. Thor can see him in everything he looks upon, can smell him on the sheets. Loki is so fiercely protective of his space and his belongings that the mere fact that he is willing to bring Thor to his room and to his bed is thrilling in its own way.

“You are thinking too much,” Loki murmurs, his breath gusting warm across Thor’s cheek where they lie facing one another atop the bed. “What _are_ you daydreaming about?”

Loki’s hand strokes over Thor’s cock at a leisurely pace, his palm warm and smooth. His fingers tighten around him just a fraction and Thor rolls his hips into that firm grip with a pleasured sigh.

They have each come once already and the taste still lingers on Thor’s tongue where Loki had spilled inside his mouth some minutes ago. Loki had gone readily to his knees to return the favour and it is so easy now in the afterglow to settle into this lazy, less urgent kind of wanting.

“I think only of you, I can assure you,” Thor smiles.

Pressing closer, Thor leans in to gently brush their mouths together, a barely-there fizz of friction as their lips catch and slide. Loki’s breath hitches audibly, his erection nudging against Thor’s thigh.

On breaking their kiss, Thor tightens his grip on Loki’s waist and rubs his thumb in idle circles over the smooth skin there. He deliberately leaves Loki’s cock untouched despite the urge to lavish his attention on him in every way he can: on Thor’s earlier attempt, Loki had merely batted Thor’s fingers away and continued stroking at him serenely, apparently content enough in this for now.

“You were distracted by thoughts of me despite the fact that I am right here in front of you, touching you,” Loki says dryly. “Have you fallen on your head recently or was there no brain in there to begin with? Honestly, Thor, I do wonder about you sometimes.”

“This is your doing,” Thor jests. “How am I to think straight with you touching me like this and looking as you do?”

Loki lifts his chin, eyes sparking with curiosity. “Oh? And how do I look?”

Thinking on it, Thor slides his hand from Loki’s waist to map the lightly sweeping arc of his hip. He lets it settle there when Loki makes no protest, his fingers curving to fit the shape of Loki’s body.

“Beautiful,” he says honestly. Loki blinks at him in wonder. Grinning, purely to provoke, Thor adds: “Enticing. Captivating, bewitching, stunn-- ”

“That is quite enough of that,” Loki says breathlessly as he fits his palm over Thor’s mouth for a moment to quieten him, a faint blush high on his cheekbones. “Why I tolerate your stupidity is beyond me.”

Thor lifts his fingers to Loki’s cheek then, bringing him in gently for another kiss. Loki yields to him easily, irresistibly; sucks lightly at the tip of Thor’s tongue and drags his teeth over Thor’s bottom lip. Gods, Thor wants him in any and every way imaginable, liquid heat thrumming in his veins.

“Could it be,” Thor says softly against his mouth, “that you _like_ me?”

“A preposterous accusation,” Loki sniffs, though his eyes are far softer than his tone, and he slides one ankle over Thor’s to tangle their legs as one.

“Of course.” Any further comment is lost when Loki circles his thumb over the head of Thor’s cock with impeccable precision, rendering him speechless.

For a long moment Loki simply watches Thor in silence, his expression thoughtful. Eventually he glances away, fleetingly biting down on his bottom lip before his eyes meet Thor’s once again. What he is readying himself to say next, Thor can only wonder, but the thinly-veiled heat in his expression hints at good things to come.

“You should probably know,” Loki says with a nonchalant innocence that only ever precedes him saying something designed to leave Thor in ruins, “that recently I’ve been thinking that I very badly want you inside me.”

The sudden rush of desire that lashes whip-quick through Thor’s body steals the air from his lungs. He shivers at the wild, heated tug of need that pulls low in his belly, his cock flexing hard within the grip of Loki’s fist and spitting the first few drops of precome that well at the tip.

He would probably feel less mightily stunned had Loki simply pushed him off the bed and left him there.

“ _Loki_ ,” is the only word Thor can manage, barely more than a whisper. He cannot stop staring at him.

Loki looks exceptionally pleased with himself. “Not tonight, you understand,” he adds primly, “but -- soon enough.”

Thor smiles at him, overwhelmed with breathless lust and affection. He places one hand over Loki’s to pause it where it continues to pull over his cock; tangles their fingers together and reluctantly draws Loki’s hand away.

“As pleasing as you are,” Thor says, laughing softly, “your hands drive me to distraction and I want to listen to the things you have to say. I cannot devote attention to both.”

Loki, radiant and apparently still luxuriating in his ability to disarm Thor with a few well-chosen words, shrugs. “I suppose that’s fair.”

Thor realises belatedly that they are still holding hands, their fingers intertwined between their bodies. Since Loki has yet to notice -- or, more likely, is pretending not to notice -- Thor makes no move to separate them.

“Say it again,” Thor urges. “What you said before.”

The slow smile Loki gives him is almost indecently filthy.

“Oh,” Loki says lightly, “you mean when I told you how badly I want you inside me? Does it come as a surprise, brother, that I would have you fuck me in that way? I’m sure you have thought of it too.”

In truth, barely a day goes by that Thor doesn’t think of it. He imagines it so very often when he is alone in his room with a hand wrapped around his cock, panting into the darkness. Sometimes, he finds himself thinking about it at dinner, for all that he tries not to; leaves half his food untouched on the days that he cannot resist giving his brother sidelong glances where he sits stoic and beautiful at his side, his stomach too full of butterflies to clear his plate. He has stared so many times at Loki’s sleeping form beside him, the pale, unmarred span of Loki’s back and the muscled curve of his arse, and wanted so fiercely that sleep takes an age to find him.

He has thought on it many times and spoken of it never, waiting for Loki to ask first should he want it. With Loki’s mercurial moods, Thor had been unsure how to put his desires into words without inadvertently prompting sulking or mocking laughter, preferring to avoid either so far as he can manage it. Every shared experience so far had felt like a gift, more than Thor could possibly deserve, and he never dared let himself hope too much for anything more. To consider anything they have shared until now to be insufficient would, Thor thinks, be an insult to the both of them.

“By the Norns, Loki, I have thought on it countless times,” Thor breathes at last, for if Loki is asking then he might as well be honest. “If you would have our roles reversed I would welcome that too, but I’ll admit that I have so often imagined how it would feel to fuck you.” His face feels hot, which seems somewhat ridiculous when Loki has spoken so candidly. He pauses, then adds in softer tones: “I must confess, brother, I never got quite so far with any other and you would have to bear my inexperience. Have you -- ?”

Loki looks positively scandalised at the thought of it.

“As if I would let some other brute have me before you did,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Please. At least you are somewhat capable of listening to instruction and I’d like to think that you won’t paw at me quite so clumsily as most.”

Which is to say, Thor thinks, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth: Thor is most capable of looking after him. It is an astonishingly sweet sentiment, even if it is delivered with Loki’s usual haughty derision.

“Then we will learn together,” Thor says decisively, and presses a lingering kiss to Loki’s mouth. “But there is the matter of -- I don’t want to hurt you,” he adds, glancing down at himself meaningfully. He is acutely aware -- and is reasonably confident that it is a fact and not an ego-fuelled exaggeration -- that he is both longer and thicker in girth than most.

“Mm,” Loki hums happily, untangling their fingers so he can slide his hand back down the length of Thor’s cock. His fingers clasp all the way around the base in demonstration and yet, long and elegant as they are, he cannot quite meet his thumb to completely encircle him. “You are _rather_ big.” If Loki has any reservations about it, they are kept well hidden. If anything, he looks inordinately pleased at the prospect. “That is why you will have to open me up with your fingers, first, to get me ready.”

Reaching for him, Thor tucks a strand of Loki’s dark hair behind his ear and takes a deep breath. He knows _of_ this, of fingers and oils and the need for preparation, but feels hopelessly out of his depth.

“I’m not sure I’d know how,” he admits.

“It isn’t difficult,” Loki says airily, unconcerned. “I’ll teach you. I’ve done it alone enough times.”

That is _quite_ the revelation: the images the words conjure in Thor’s mind are nothing short of wondrous.

“Show me,” Thor says in earnest. “Will you show me now how you would do it? I want to see.”

Smiling, Loki rolls onto his back, his hair pooling across the pillows and gleaming like so much spilled ink in the candlelight. Thor kneels alongside him, wide-eyed, and drinks in the sight of him. It hurts to look at him, Thor cannot _breathe_. It is dangerous, Thor thinks, this talk of being inside him: once sheathed within his brother’s body he cannot imagine ever wanting to withdraw.

The sight of Loki spreading his legs is enough on its own to quicken Thor’s breathing, though Loki merely shoots him a knowing, satisfied look and continues in his demonstration. Sliding two fingers over his tongue, Loki sucks at them briefly. When he pulls them from his mouth they are liberally coated, gleaming and slick.

Loki reaches between his legs, eyes glancing to Thor’s as if to satisfy himself that he is still watching, and then he sinks his index finger halfway inside himself with a soft exhale.

“You do this often?” Thor asks, enthralled.

“Yes,” Loki says with a breath of laughter, pulling out slightly before pushing back in. His finger slides almost all the way inside this time. “You do not?”

“No,” Thor says thoughtfully, “I have yet to try,” but he thinks that he will soon so that he may feel it for himself.

Loki teases at his rim with the tip of his second finger and coaxes it alongside the first. He shifts his hips slightly to take them deeper, rocking up against his hand with a soft grunt of pleasure that goes straight to Thor’s cock.

“It’s easier with oil,” Loki goes on, “but for a finger or two I manage without.” His eyes are fixed on the ceiling, but he slides his gaze briefly to Thor, sly and provoking. “Recently I have taken to imagining that the fingers inside me are yours. That you’re preparing me to take your cock.”

Thor shifts himself down the bed for a better vantage point, resting a hand atop one of Loki’s bent knees. He places his chin above it, smiling down at him.

“I hope I am patient,” Thor says with amusement. “In these fantasies of yours.”

“You aren’t always,” Loki sighs. “Sometimes you are so desperate to fuck me that you cannot help but make haste, but I tell you that I like it when you are rough with me and receive it gladly.”

For a moment, the upward thrust of Loki’s fingers turns sharp and quick in demonstration. Loki moans, eyelashes fluttering as he tips his head back.

The urge for Thor to take himself in hand to jerk himself off is overwhelming; given that he’d probably be dangerously close to coming after a few strong strokes, however, he elects instead to firmly ignore it. For Loki’s sake, he can be patient.

Reaching down with one hand, he traces one fingertip over Loki’s knuckles where they are pressed beautifully, unbearably close to his body. “Can I try?”

Loki’s breath shakes as he carefully withdraws his fingers. “If you like.”

Crawling over him, Thor ducks his head; presses a gentle kiss to his lips and another to his forehead. Adds one more to the corner of his mouth, after that, just because he can.

“Ugh,” Loki says, waving him aside and rubbing at his face with the back of one hand. “Don’t get sentimental about it, you oaf.”

He rolls his eyes at Thor’s quiet laughter but nevertheless draws Thor’s hand to his mouth in order to get his fingers good and wet. Thor had rather expected that he’d have to do this part for himself, but the slick heat of Loki’s mouth against his skin is never unwelcome.

Once satisfied that they are sufficiently wet, Loki lets them slide free, his gaze heated as Thor’s fingertips drag over his bottom lip. Thor settles back on his heels between Loki’s thighs, looking to Loki for approval and getting it in the form of a brief nod.

He is gentle -- perhaps too gentle, for Loki twitches slightly at the fleeting sensation of Thor’s finger brushing over his hole -- but Thor then eases it inside properly, painstakingly slowly, until it is almost entirely sheathed inside. It is incredible, the tight, fiery clutch of Loki’s body around him, and Thor feels his cock throb with the want to sink inch by inch inside him.

“Gods, Loki,” Thor breathes. He drags his finger almost all the way out, mesmerised, before tentatively pushing back in. “Am I -- is it all right?”

Loki’s brows knit together, perplexed but not unhappy. His hips gently shift to meet each careful thrust of Thor’s hand.

“It is,” he says. “It’s good. Just -- different. Now add the other, let me feel you.”

What follows is a completely silent conversation in which Thor gives him a dubious look and Loki responds with an arched eyebrow and a head tilt, but after they each have wordlessly repeated their point Thor is convinced enough to give in to Loki’s demands.

It is a tight fit, the two of his fingers being thicker than Loki’s own, but Loki makes encouraging noises as Thor presses carefully deeper. He pauses midway to let Loki adjust, their combined breathing loud in the quiet of Loki’s bedchambers, and he stares and stares at the place where they join. He has difficulty now envisaging how Loki could possibly take his cock when he already looks so fragile stretched around the girth of two digits, but Loki is strong, not to mention capable of almost anything he puts his clever mind to, and Thor doesn’t doubt that he will.

Loki gives a small, bitten-back gasp when Thor coaxes the swell of his knuckles into his hole, but once the broadest part is done with his fingers slide fully inside with little difficulty. There is a tremor of tension in Loki’s body, more so now than before, and Thor really wants to tell him to relax. He decides not to risk the kick to the head such advice would likely bring and opts instead to distract him.

“Do you think,” Thor says with a gentle curiosity that he aches to see satisfied, “that you would let me spend inside you?”

Loki looks downright enamoured at the prospect. “Oh, yes,” he says breathlessly, candlelight glinting off the glass-green of his eyes. “More than once, if I am in the mood for it.”

Thor suddenly feels lightheaded at the thought, for all that he has imagined it so many times before. He focuses instead on carefully twisting his fingers until pleasure writes itself across Loki’s face.

“Ah, Loki says. “Oh, that _is_ good. Now turn your hand back -- yes, like that. And then -- ” and he demonstrates with his other hand a curling of his fingertips in a beckoning motion.

Thor copies the motion tentatively and hears Loki’s breath hitch, angling his hips for more. Made confident, Thor tries again, pushing in deeper. Crooks his fingers and drags the pads of them downward in a slow, inexorable slide.

“ _Ohhhh_ ,” Loki groans, his eyes rolling back as his cock pulses and leaks over the flat muscle of his belly. If Thor wasn’t already painfully hard then he certainly would be now. He cannot remember Loki ever being so unabashedly loud. “I do _love_ it when you learn so quickly, brother. It’s even better when it’s your fingers instead of mine, just keep -- _fuck_ , keep doing that. Tell me how hard you want to fuck me.”

Still stroking at him from the inside, now settled into the movement and rhythm that suits Loki most, Thor frowns. “I would be gentle, Loki. I could not bear to see you hurt.”

“Ugh,” Loki says petulantly, his hands fisted in the sheets as Thor’s fingers push deep yet again. “Don’t be so _dull_ , Thor. Tell me. How hard. You want. To fuck me.”

Thor swallows. Looks Loki in the eye and doesn’t allow himself to avert his gaze.

“As hard as you demand it. Hard enough to satisfy. Perhaps -- you will feel it afterward, sometimes, long after we are done, and remember how I took you so vigorously.”

Loki sucks in a sharp breath as Thor presses in firmly enough that his knuckles rub along his stretched rim, toes curling on the bed. Thor slides his fingers back slowly with the intention of pushing forth once more, but they are starting to dry out somewhat and he quells their movement for fear of causing discomfort.

Prodding gently at Thor’s hand, Loki silently encourages him to withdraw. He instead tugs Thor up to lie over him, propped up on his hands to put space between them.

“We should fuck like this the first time, don’t you think?” Loki asks him, running his hands keenly over Thor’s biceps.

“Oh, without a doubt,” Thor agrees readily, though he privately thinks that Loki could have suggested that their first time take place up against the library wall in full view of passers-by and Thor would be hard-pressed to say no to him.

Loki lifts his legs to Thor’s sides, dragging the insides of his bent knees lightly against Thor’s ribs. He writhes fractionally against the sheets, eyes heavy-lidded and body flushed with arousal, and looks for all intents and purposes like he is already getting fucked.

“Mm, yes,” Loki says, a wicked slant to his mouth, “this will do nicely.”

Thor kisses him, open-mouthed and hungry for it. His cock hangs heavy between his legs, leaking fervently onto Loki’s bared skin below, and he all but whimpers into Loki’s mouth when Loki curls in on himself slightly to stroke his hand along the length of it in a squeezing grip.

“Oh, Thor,” Loki breathes, his tone somehow mocking and sympathetic at the same time. “Look at you. How badly you want this.” It cannot really be denied. Thor lowers himself onto his forearms until their hips are flush, pressing down against him so that they can grind against one another. He nuzzles at Loki’s neck and sucks at his skin hard enough to bruise, determined to reduce him to a moaning, shivering mess. “There are lots of -- _ah_ \-- other ways I want it,” Loki goes on, his head thrown back against the pillow to allow Thor to mouth at his throat. “I would climb astride you and ride you into the bed. Or the floor. Wherever I -- oh, _Gods_ yes, bite me _fucking_ harder -- wherever I want you most. I have also thought on how readily you could see to me against a wall, hard and fast and scarcely concealed.”

Thor exhales shakily, hips slowing to a halt. “I’ve thought on these things, too,” he confesses, lifting his head to look at him. “And many more besides. I have often envisioned you on your hands and knees and thought of having you that way.”

“You want to take me from behind?” Loki says with scorn, though he is doing a poor job of hiding his glee at the thought of it. “You would mount me, have us rut like animals made frantic by their heat? How uncouth.”

“Indeed,” Thor says, and after only the briefest moment of deliberation takes Loki by the waist and turns him deftly over onto his stomach. Loki gives a shocked breath of laughter that turns into a moan when Thor hauls him up by the hips onto all fours. Thor leans over him, fitting himself close to speak directly against his ear. “I think you desire this too.”

“Oh, yes,” Loki hisses, head bowed.

Palming at Loki’s thighs to fit them close together, Thor then pushes his cock between them, the gripping heat of Loki’s skin maddeningly good. He grasps at Loki’s middle, his hands broadly spanning the taper of his waist, and tugs Loki back against him as he shoves his hips forward.

“Yes, _yes_ , Thor, like this,” Loki pants as Thor thrusts against him, his voice gone thready and thin. Thor can only _imagine_ the sounds he’ll make when he’s actually inside him.

Thor knows full well that he isn’t going to last long like this and fumbles a hand beneath them to stroke along Loki’s cock. It isn’t the easiest of angles to get a firm grip on him, its hard length skidding through the hollow between forefinger and thumb with every thrust of Thor’s hips, but it is more than good enough if the encouraging sounds Loki makes are anything to go by.

It is difficult to tell exactly what sends Loki over the edge between the pull of Thor’s hand and the none too gentle way in which Thor moves against him, but he suddenly falls forward onto his elbows with a shuddering moan. His cock pulses against Thor’s hand, his release running sleekly over Thor’s wrist and his fingers onto the sheets below, and Thor suddenly needs to come so badly it hurts.

Still gripping at Loki’s waist, now with both hands and one of them varnishing Loki’s skin in glistening streaks, Thor speeds the movement of his hips until at last he is coming; hard, desperate for it, painting white the tender skin between Loki’s thighs.

Feeling thoroughly floored, Thor strokes a soothing hand down Loki’s spine as he sits back on his heels and feels Loki tremble slightly with aftershocks of pleasure. Shoving Thor aside unceremoniously as he turns over, Loki strategically avoids the wet patch as he falls back onto the bed. Thor fits himself alongside him, each of them staring dazedly at the ceiling in silence while they catch their breath.

“Could you?” Thor says at last with a wince, gesturing over their bodies which are both hopelessly in need of some cleansing magic. He tries very hard not to think about all of the wonderful, terribly honest things they have just said to one another in the heat of the moment, the memory of it making his face flush warm.

“Why is it always me who must clean up the both of us?” Loki gripes without heat. “The mess is mostly of your doing, is it not? Clean it yourself.” Smirking, he tangles his fingers in Thor’s hair and pushes him down the length of his body to make his demands clear. Languorous, Thor goes willingly, making himself comfortable between Loki’s legs; sets about licking him clean in slow strokes as Loki squirms contentedly against the sheets. Loki is silent for a long moment, though he eventually gives a satisfied hum and begins to comb his fingertips through the length of Thor’s hair. “Soon,” is all that he says then, voice soft and wistful.

Thor presses a kiss to the inside of Loki’s thigh; hides his smile there, too, and dares to let himself hope that it is so.

**Author's Note:**

> When will I be free of the need to add the Wet & Messy tag to my fics? Stop coming on each other!!! At some point in the far-off future, if people like this fic and my brain co-operates, this may get the sequel it’s crying out for…

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Incipient [podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14056965) by [hollybennett123](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollybennett123/pseuds/hollybennett123)




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